


Guardian Angel

by Kate_McCoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animagus, Fandom, Gen, No Romance, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Young!Harry, angel - Freeform, gaurdian, marysue, owl - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-06 10:57:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11599203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_McCoy/pseuds/Kate_McCoy
Summary: Professor McGonagall calls Angel Custos, to her office on the last day of school to discus a very important matter. To protect Harry Potter. Angel must go to Privet Drive and nanny the spoiled Dudley and neglected Harry. Facing the struggles of trying to please Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, while still treating Harry right, she struggles to keep her magic hidden, posing as a Muggle.





	1. The Dursleys

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a pretty great one if you ask me, but of course I'm one of the writers, (the other is on FanFiction.net). Anywho I'll update every week regularly for about 10 weeks then we'll see what happens. So please comment, bookmark, anything and everything. I love feedback. The first chapter isn't very long, but it gets better, trust me. Nothing else to be said, really, let the reading begin!

Chapter 1: The Dursleys  
I walked up the steps to the Dursley's front door remembering the meeting I had had with Professor McGonagall. She had told me to keep Harry safe at all costs. I had been especially appointed to this mission, and I was not about to screw it up. 

“Good morning, Ms. Custos,” Professor McGonagall greeted me as I stepped into her classroom. Why did she call me in? Did Fred and George Weasley do something and blame me again? Those first years were real pains. But you had to admit, if you weren’t the being pranked, they were pretty funny.  
“Good morning, Professor.”   
“I apologize, Ms. Custos, for calling you on the last day of your last term, but it is an extremely important matter I must discuss with you.”  
This was not good. I don’t like Professor McGonagall’s ‘important matters’. One time it was that I didn’t make the Quidditch team when Professor Snape wouldn't let me play, one time it was that I had to help Professor Sprout with the Mandrakes. That one particularly gives me shivers. The Mandrakes did not want to be rooted. There was only one time the important matter was good- when she told me I was acing my Muggle studies.  
I’m guessing I showed my resentment on my face, because Professor McGonagall said, “Don’t worry, Ms. Custos, I think you will like this one.”  
Well, I wasn’t expecting that… I thought. Right after I thought this, Professor McGonagall said, “I know you weren’t expecting this news to be good Ms. Custos. Most of my matters to you are either chores or overall bad news. But only because you are one of my most reliable and trustworthy students, despite being a Slytherin.” That last sentence stung a little. I mean, if someone, especially a Professor, insults your house, it hurts. It really does. But I guess she was also complimenting me, so I went with it.  
“Thank you, Professor, but what’s the matter at hand?” I asked. After I asked this, I detected a worrisome expression in her usually stern face. That worried me. Professor McGonagall was not the worrisome type.  
“Ms. Custos, you have most likely heard about Harry Potter.”  
I felt goosebumps rising on my arms and neck. Who hadn’t heard about The Boy Who Lived? But why was Professor McGonagall talking about him?  
“Yes, Professor, tons of times.”  
“Good, because this matter involves him.”  
I felt my heart beating faster and faster by the second. Something related to Harry Potter. My friends would love to hear about this.  
“Of course you can tell no one about this. This is very secretive. Even Professor Dumbledore doesn’t know about this.” I now had a feeling that Professor McGonagall was a Legilimens. She also shot down my bragging right, so that was a little disappointing.  
“Ms. Custos, I need you to be Potter’s guardian.” I felt like fainting. Guardian?! This was too much for me to take. I had never thought Professor McGonagall would trust me to do this.   
“It is your duty to make sure Potter is not in harm’s way. But you must not tell him this. You must stay undetected. You must not fail. You must keep him safe at all costs”  
And now I was here. In front of Harry’s door, jumping out of my skin, nervous to knock, anxious to meet him.

 

An extremely thin and tall woman answered the door. “You must be Angel. Come in.” She said through pursed lips. She stood aside and I pulled out my wand.  
“Now Mrs. Dursley, I am really sorry about this, but I really must do this. Imperio.” I said, and a wisp of green and blue smoke came out of my wand, and Mrs. Dursley took a deep breath and a blank look crossed her face. “You are going to act normal, but if I suggest something, you are going to do that thing. Like right now, I'm suggesting you sign this contract, saying that you will hire me, and my pay will be food and room. You will also convince your husband that I am the perfect fit. Do you understand?” She nodded curtly as I handed her the long paper and a quill. She signed it with a flush and then looked back at me.   
“All of those rules will be in place until further notice. Thank you.” I snapped my fingers and she was back to her normal, curt self.  
Mr. Dursley yelled from the living room, “Petunia! We’re waiting!” She ushered me into the living room where I saw an extremely fat boy, about nine years old, sitting on the couch. I was very confused. How could this be the famous Harry Potter?  
“Angel, this is our boy, Dudley.” She leaned in and gave him a kiss on his very fat, extremely pink cheek. Then she righted herself and had a very stern look on her face. “But we do have another boy. He isn't ours of course, he is the son of my late sister and her husband. He is a very troubled lad, and I hope you won't have much trouble with him.” She went over to the hallway and knocked feverishly on the door of the hallway. “Boy! Come here!” She yanked the door open.  
Out came a boy, about nine as well. His black hair was very untidy and he was very skinny, and looked weak. It seemed as if he was being starved and was wearing clothes much too big for him. He wore glasses that were taped together at the bridge and he had brilliantly green eyes. I looked at his forehead- and there was the scar. The legendary scar that made Harry Potter so mysterious, so interesting and so extraordinary. How and why were these Muggles treating this legendary boy as if he was a dung beetle?   
I glanced back at the big, pink, blob of flesh that they worshipped more than The Boy Who Lived, and smiled at him as fakely as I could and said, “Your son is lovely.” Mrs. Dursley seemed pleased by this and said, “Yes, he is, isn’t he? He is so wonderful, my Ickle Diddykins!” I held back a laugh and let Mrs. Dursley babble on as I looked back at Harry and winked at him. He smiled at me, his beautiful eyes twinkling, and honestly, I don’t know if I have seen anything more warming.


	2. Sandwiches

The next day, Mrs. Dursley went to the market for some more dog food for Dudley. Well, obviously not dog food, she went to buy groceries. She left me in charge of her ‘Dudley Diddy Duddydums’ and ‘the other one’, telling me what foods to give to both of them. Dudley got the whole fridge while Harry got a shred of cheese and an apple. I was truly disgusted by this, but I didn’t say anything, because it would fire me, ruining my chance of protecting Harry. So, I just agreed. But when Mrs. Dursley disappeared around the corner, I made 6 sandwiches and gave 3 of them to Harry and 3 of them to Dudley. Dudley looked deeply disgusted while Harry looked as if I had handed him a plate full of gold. Harry ate all of his food in 10 seconds flat while Dudley glared at him, not touching a bite.  
“Are you not eating that?” Harry asked Dudley politely. Dudley grabbed all three sandwiches in his enormous hands, and wolfed them down, still glaring at Harry. I turned on the T.V. and put a cartoon on for the both of them to watch. Harry sat on the floor while Dudley sat on the big, fluffy couch.  
“Harry, don’t you want to sit on the couch?” I asked and he looked up at me incredibly, and said, “The couch? You mean the one Dudley’s sitting on?” His voice was sweeter than honey.  
“Is there another couch?” I asked and Harry smiled. I beckoned him to sit, and he got up and sat down on the couch in a way as if it were his first time. Dudley was looking amazed and kept looking at me and Harry over and over again.   
I just stood behind the couch, watching the Muggle television. The things Muggles come up with, honestly...  
Finally, Mrs. Dursley came home and put the groceries away, and Dudley thundered after his mother, into the kitchen. From there I could hear his unpleasant voice complaining, “Mummy! Mummy! That older girl gave Harry 3 sandwiches and gave me 3 sandwiches as well! And she let Harry sit on the couch, next to me!”  
I heard something drop in the kitchen, presumably something wooden, and then Mrs. Dursley was storming into the living room, strikingly resembling a very angry giraffe with a blonde baby hippo following, grinning nastily.  
“Angel! What did I tell you about food proportions? And why is that thing sitting on the couch?” Mrs. Dursley shouted at me.  
“That thing happens to be a living, breathing boy, Mrs. Dursley, it needs food.” I said.  
“That boy is a nuisance and you need to accept it if you want to continue working here!”  
I considered it and I realized that I had to agree. For Harry’s safety and well being, of course.  
“I understand.”   
Mrs. Dursley looked at me with a glare like poisoned honey. “That's what I thought. Now we need to talk about your sleeping accommodations. Dudley has an extra bedroom that you can use, I think.” Immediately Dudley began to protest. He waved his fat hands in the air and yelled at his mummy that he really needed that room. I couldn't see why a boy would need two rooms. But Mrs. Dursley talked sweetly to her son and bribed him with a candy, and he finally stopped whining.  
I went into an uneasy sleep. The way these people treated Harry, it was borderline child cruelty. I wouldn't stand for it. Things would get better for that boy, I vowed to myself. And it would start tonight.  
A few hours later, I woke up bolt upright and remembered my dream. It was about my dad, my evil, backwards dad. He had betrayed me this time, like he did his friends. I was living with their son. And he was being practically starved.  
I threw off the thin covers of my creaky mattress and padded softly on the wooden floor. I looked around my room. There was a loose floorboard where I could hide food under. I went downstairs to the kitchen, walking as softly as I could. I wasn't going to give up magic, and I used it here, making sure my feet didn't make any sounds going down the stairs.   
I opened the door to the refrigerator and looked inside. Was there anything stable for Harry to eat in here? A sandwich. All that boy needed was a sandwich. And a little fruit wouldn't hurt. I got out the grapes that Mrs. Dursley had gotten and put them on a plate. Then I put together two sandwiches, one which I would save for later, and the other for now.   
I wondered where they might have him sleep. Not in the guest bedroom. Not in any of the closets. Then I heard a soft bam from the stairs and then a soft “Ow!” I went over to the cupboard under the stairs and knocked lightly on the door. “Harry? Are you in there?”   
“Yes.” Came the muffled whimper from inside the cupboard. I unlocked the hatch and opened the door to reveal an Itty bitty little space, in which Harry was sitting.   
“Oh my goodness! This is… How can you stand for it? Those Muggles-” I covered my mouth. I had let something slip.   
“Whats a Muggle?” Asked Harry sweetly, in a voice that was hard to resist telling him everything.   
“Nothing, love. That's how we talk at home. A muggle is someone who is just… well, different. Not like you and me.” I handed him the sandwich and he looked at me like I was a real angel, sent down by God to protect him with this marvelous sandwich.  
“Thank you, I'll-well-You-wow.” He proceeded to eat the sandwich in as little time as it tool me to blink.  
“You could win an eating contest, kid. But those people treat you like vermin. I'm here for you though. If you need anything, just tell me.”  
He looked at me, his green eyes full of sadness. “Is it going to get better? When I was younger, I would dream about distant relatives coming to take me away. But that's never going to happen. I just want to know if it's ever gonna get better.” I teared up, thinking about this poor boy.   
I looked this at starved, mistreated boy in the eyes and said “Yes. It's going to get better. For every star in the sky, there is an amazing meal on your plate. For every blade of grass, there is a night in a warm bed. For every wand out there, there is a wizard by your side.” He looked confused.   
“I don't understand.” He said. “But how? Magic doesn't exist.”  
“Said who?”   
“Aunt Petunia said.”  
“She doesn't seem like the woman to believe. Do you know how your parents died?”  
“In a car crash.”   
“They died protecting you.” He looked awestruck. I didn't know what to say to that innocent face. He didn't believe me, I could tell.  
“Did they love me?”  
“So much, Harry, so, so, much.”   
“Did you know them?”  
“As a matter of fact I did.” I layed down next to him on the bed.   
“What were they like?”  
“Magical in every way.” We lay in silence for a while, until Harry fell asleep and I went up stairs to my room and hid the sandwich under the floorboards. I also wrote a note, and put it in a box. I took out my wand and carved H.J.P. onto it. A time capsule to Harry. I went back to bed with a little more reassurance that I could improve this boy's life.


End file.
